


The Choice

by Artemis1219



Category: Naruto
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 10:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28349625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis1219/pseuds/Artemis1219
Summary: Obsidian eyes continue to bore into her hazel ones for a minute, and she feels her hopes start to deflate.  In one last feeble attempt to rescue her day, she mutters, “I have to be back in my room in two hours.  Please, can I stay?”
Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	The Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Great thanks to [inked_in_indigo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inked_in_indigo/pseuds/inked_in_indigo) who edited this story and nudged me back into publishing my own works. Please excuse any mistakes with the timeline. It has been a long time since I last read Naruto.
> 
> Enjoy!

The girl’s shallow breath turns the oxygen mask white with condensation. She breathes out in time with the beeps of a machine hidden in the corner, the only sign that she might actually be awake. The figure in the corner hisses as its golden eyes narrow in anger. She allows herself a small smirk as the gas mask turns white once again, obscuring the figures view of her lower face. She discovered a few years ago that he finds it difficult to ignore the machines when she breathes in time with them, and the machines remind him that his last chance of a legacy is dying of a disease he cannot fix.

Hazel eyes open and glance towards the door where the figure stands. Her pale hand reaches up and pulls down the mask so that it rests against her neck.

Silence reigns for a few breaths before she moistens her lips.

“Hello, father.”

The figure pushes off of the wall. Its golden eyes threaten pain, but the limp arms at its sides reassure her that even if the figure does not care for her, because she is—despite its darkest wishes—its daughter, the figure will be unable to lash out against her. Hazel meets gold in an effort to remain calm and defiant, but most importantly to keep the golden orbs from slipping to her delicate fingers dancing around the mask, itching to pull it back in place over her mouth for some respite. Being around her father always makes it difficult to breathe.

She fears that the golden eyes caught the movement of her fingers as they flicker in disgust before turning away. However, that could have easily been disgust of everything she represented, everything he was not and everything he despised.

She had always been a disappointment, even before she became sick.

“Kabuto will be returning with my new body shortly. He will come check on you soon after.”

Her fingers clench at the mask and bring it up to her mouth to mask the grimace she could not keep from spreading across her face. Kabuto the Sadist, as she has come to call him, is the only one of her father’s minions that she interacted with on a regular basis as the others are either only asked to perform random tasks concerning her or are prone to disappearing suddenly. While she abhors the time spent with him and the experimental treatments he puts her through, she still finds herself looking forward to the time she gets to spend with him. He is the only person she talks to besides her father, and unlike her father, he is willing to share stories with her about the outside world and gossip about her father’s latest plans.

She gives a slight nod and lets her eyes drift closed, hoping he will leave. She feels a slight breeze in the otherwise still room as he turns sharply on his feet to face the door, but then he pauses. She can imagine the maniacal gleam in his golden eyes as he turns towards her and hisses out one last warning.

“Stay away from my new body. I do not want you infecting him.”

As the door to the laboratory turned bedroom slams shut behind him, she wonders if her father is more worried that she will infect the boy’s body or mind.

—

His feet lead him around another corner, and he growls when he is faced with an identical underground corridor leading off into the darkness. While Sasuke currently struggles to think favorably upon his former home, he grumbles into the darkness that at least Konohagakure is a vibrant town bathed in sunlight and surrounded by lush foliage, not a monotonous web of underground tunnels. The only thing that could possibly distinguish it from the other corridors already in the map he has been constructing in his mind for the past three months is that it is unusually dark for one of the corridors that lead to the Snake’s personal rooms.

Well, that and the fact that it only has the one door located at the end of the tunnel.

A weak scream cuts through the air and is followed by sobs. He prepares to continue past the new corridor and let Kabuto continue with his latest experiment when he hears something strange and finds himself walking towards the new door.

He presses his ear against the door to make sure and feels his usual stoic expression change to one of surprise.

“Shush now, it’s all right. The pain will pass.”

His brows furrow in confusion; Kabuto never consoles his experiments. Whenever Sasuke finds himself in the presence of the med-nin, he is usually muttering to himself in glee with a maniacal smile on his face. Sasuke holds back a grimace as he remembers accidentally walking in on one of Kabuto’s dissections while looking for the Snake. He found the Snake and managed to convince him to teach him a new jutsu that he almost never uses, but he still shivers at the recollection of Kabuto practically dancing around the poor soul who was still alive on the metal bed.

A few shuddering breaths pass through the thick wooden door as Sasuke lowers his eye to the keyhole. Kabuto’s back blocks most of his view, but Sasuke can still discern a variety of medical equipment stored in the far corner and shelves of vial looking potions, some of which emit an eerie, neon glow in the dim room.

“I’m fine. Please, please go.” Saskue rearranges his position so that he has a new line of sight into the room. He catches a faint glimpse of pale skin and a lavender nightgown before he realizes Kabuto is making his way towards the door.

He sprints around the corner just as the door opens and Kabuto slinks out. The med-nin lifts a heavy key out of his pocket and locks the door before walking in the direction Sasuke originally came from, probably to report to the Snake.

Sasuke carefully re-enters the hallway as Kabuto’s rounds a corner and finds himself almost sprinting back to the door. He looks through the keyhole and grunts when he comes to the conclusion that Kabuto must have turned off a light upon exiting because there is no trace or pale skin or a purple nightgown. He closes his eyes and focuses on his hearing, but can only hear the faint beeps coming from the medical equipment he spied in the corner.

Growling in annoyance, Sasuke steps away from the door and continues heading towards his original destination, the training grounds. Why did he allow himself to get distracted by the room and its occupants in the first place? He has much more important concerns.

After all, he has a brother to kill.

—

Today is one of her good days.

She could sense it the moment she woke up. Her vision is clear, her lungs no longer burn with each breath, and perhaps most importantly, she has been standing and walking around her room for the past two hours.

Even the Sadist notices her good health when he brings the mush that passes as her lunch late that morning. Her good mood holds as he proceeds to dance around her, pocking and prodding before pushing up his glasses and grinning to himself as he jots down some notes.

Today is her day, and damn it, no one is going to ruin it for her.

As the door locks shut behind the Sadist, she quickly scarfs down the mush as she lifts one of the old vials off the bookshelf. Grinning to herself, she weighs the key in her hand before rushing towards the door. She lets out a small laugh as she feels the lock click, the door gently swings open.

Not wishing to waste a moment of freedom, she pockets the key and closes the door behind her. After leaning against it for a second, she scampers down the hall to her right, almost breaking out into a run to make it to her favorite spot in the base.

The training ground is the one spot in the underground base open to the outside elements through a hole in the ceiling, the result of a training accident from when she was little. Her father had given her quite the scolding for potentially exposing their base, but never bothered to have one of his followers close up the hole. As a result, it is the only spot in the base where she can feel connected to the outside world. On the best days the sun wraps itself around her like a warm blanket and a breeze tickles her face. Even the cold, penetrating rain is a welcome change to the stifling air in the base, although it usually means she will be bedridden for a week or two afterwards.

She stops upon entering the training room. Her eyes close as a smile slowly spreads across her face. She spreads her arms out welcoming the sun and the hair on her arms rises as a cool breeze plays across her figure.

Not even the cool steel against her throat can stop this feeling of euphoria.

“What are you doing here? Where did you come from?”

Her eyes open so she can appraise the boy on the other end of the sword. Hazel eyes meet red eyes with swirling black dots. She feels the sword dig further into the soft flesh of her neck and looks at the boy’s mouth to avoid one again becoming mesmerized by his churning eyes.

“I’m enjoying the sunlight. God knows I could use some.” She smiles as she feels the sword pull back slightly and reaches behind her with one hand. “I live in a room a couple of corridors down towards the right,” she explains, using her hand to make vague gestures intended to better describe where exactly her prison was.

The red fades into obsidian, but the sword remains at her throat. “No one is supposed to interrupt me in my training.”

“I’ll sit over there,” she points to the area against the far wall under the hole, “and be very quiet.” She glances at the hand holding the sword and tilts her head to the side. “Although, it looks like you could use some pointers. Your grip on the handle is slightly off.” She reaches forward cautiously and rotates his grip slightly. “There, try that.”

Obsidian eyes continue to bore into her hazel ones for a minute, and she feels her hopes start to deflate. In one last feeble attempt to rescue her day, she mutters, “I have to be back in my room in two hours. Please, can I stay?”

Slowly, the sword falls from her throat and she lets a laugh bubble past her lips. She quickly squeezes his shoulder as she rushes past him to sit on the floor under the wall, missing the amused expression on the boy’s face. The next time she glances in his direction his eyes are trained on an unseen enemy as he practices various swings and blocks with her father’s old sword.

As the sword swings through the air, she tilts her head up towards the sun and breathes.

—

Three days later he sits in his room, taking a quick break to shower and nap after a grueling day of training before meeting the Snake for dinner. He closes his eyes and feels his muscles relax when a quiet voice suddenly has him sitting up and spinning on his bed to face the door.

“Is this your room?”

He remains tense as she enters his room and closes the door behind her. Obsidian eyes follow her as she makes her way over to his desk, fingering a few scrolls before stopping on his hitai-ate. He watches as her brows furrow and her fingers trace the music note that symbolizes Otogakure.

“You don’t wear it?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

He watches as she sits on the floor and coughs slightly into her hands. “You don’t mind if I stay here, do you? I have no one else to talk to.”

He grunts as he glances away and lies back down. His eyes start to flutter closed again, exhaustion taking over once his body stops identifying her as threat, but before he can rest she asks, “Where are you from?”

He stifles a small groan and answers, “Konohagakure.”

He watches in surprise as her eyes light up and she takes a deep breath. “I have heard that Konohagakure is beautiful! Is it true that it’s always warm there? I heard it hardly ever rains too, but that the trees are tens of meters tall! Do rivers actually sound like music? Oh, have you ever seen a waterfall?”

He clenches his fists; images of his old home press against his eyelids and refuse to leave him alone. He opens his mouth, “It’s not named the Land of Fire for no reason. It is warm, and we do get some rain. The trees tower over the village, and there is one river that cuts through the village. I used to have to sit by it for hours every morning. I wouldn’t say it sounds like music, but it was soothing.”

He pauses as unwanted memories distract him. His face contorts as it struggles to decide whether to form a smile or a frown. Eventually it settles on neither.

“What about a waterfall?”

He grimaces and turns onto his side, facing the wall. Lowly he mutters, “There is one, outside of the village gates.”

Silence falls over the two for a moment before she sighs, “I wish I could see one. I’ve read descriptions, but I imagine they’re much more beautiful in person. I imagine it’s all beautiful.”

He cranes his neck to look at her and is surprised at the far-off look on her face.

“You act like you haven’t seen nature before,” he scoffs. What a child.

“But I haven’t,” she mutters and her turns around in shock. She is looking down at the floor, and her fingers pluck at the edge of her nightgown. “These caves are all I know.”

He continues to study her in confusion for a few moments. How can she not have gone outside even once?

“What else do you want to know?”

She looks up at him in surprise before rattling off more questions.

He surprises himself by answering all of them.

—

She frowns and closes the door to his bedroom after finding it empty, looking at the ground in confusion. They agreed to meet in his room this time, as it has gotten too cold for her to sit in the exposed training room while he practices. She feels sad that he will miss their meeting today since he has not missed any in the year since she first stumbled into his room.

She needs to talk to him today. She needs a distraction.

Today is her worst day in a while.

She remembers him once saying he enjoys spending time in the library going over scrolls, so she turns around to head to her new destination, only to bump into something solid. She blinks before looking up to his face. The faint hint of amusement she expects to see is not there, so she frowns and he sees it.

“I have a mission. I have to leave now.”

She feels her heart drop as he pushes past her into his room, not bothering to close the door as he grabs a few items and walks back out. He locks the door and spares her a quick glance.

“Go back to your room,” he whispers and disappears.

Dejectedly, she shuffles back into her room and climbs onto her bed. She stares at the wall in silence for hours, not even budging when the Sadist comes in to run his tests. Her eyes start to tire and she closes them, breathing in and out to the beep of the machine in the corner.

Suddenly she hears something scraping at the lock and thinks her mind is playing a cruel trick on her, but then a beam of light from the hallway works its way across her prone figure and into her eyes.

Blinking, she sits up and stares at the figure in the doorway. He stares at her for a moment, seemingly debating something before closing the door and walking to stand in front of her. Wordlessly he holds something out to her.

She grasps at the object he holds out to her and gasps. The photo shows terraces etched into the mountainside. Some are filled with water and reflect the blue skies and clouds above. Others are starting to turn a bright green that seems so beautiful and full of life that her eyes start to water. Slowly, she traces her fingers over the picture and imagines the sun on her back and the stalks swaying in the wind.

“You were here?” she asks, and he nods while taking a seat by her side. “Tell me about it.”

And he does.

—

He lifts his towel off his head and places it down on the chair before picking up the new photo from his desk. This one is of a lake reflecting the green lines of light that cut through the night’s sky and hide some of the stars from view. He originally planned on getting one of the full moon peaking behind a mountaintop, but as soon as he saw the bright greens of the light in the sky he knew he wanted to show her this photo instead.

He opens the door and the beeping of medical devices assaults his ears, but this time instead of being shoved away in a corner they surround her prone form on the slab that serves as her bed. His eyes travel from the machine monitors to the mask over her mouth to her eyes.

She stares back, unflinching at the sight of the Sharingan. He is the one to break contact as he watchers her pale hand move up and lift the mask off her face.

“I was hoping you would never see me like this.”

“Why?”

Her voice is raspy as she responds.

“Because you are the only person in this prison that treats me like a human being.”

He watches her from the corner of his eyes as he turns to close her door. Her pale fingers tremble and her breaths shake as she struggles to show strength. He reaches over and puts the mask back over her mouth, his own lips pressed tightly together as he attempts to keep his rage to himself. 

“Did Kabuto do this to you?” he growls as he recalls the countless times he has seen Kabuto walking in or out of the corridor that leads to her room. He never bothered to think what her role was in the base. He had assumed that she was not one of the sannin’s experiments because of her apparent freedom around the base, but she was not a kunoichi either based on her small chakra reserves. After realizing her room was the one he saw Kabuto exiting halfway through his first year as the snake’s apprentice, he thought Orochimaru tolerated her presence in the base for the medic’s sake. As she takes another breath he fears that his initial assumptions were incorrect. If he had only realized, he could have done something earlier to save her. Instead he has failed her, like he failed his clan.

“No, I like to say my father did,” she answers with a wry grin. “However my personal feelings about the Sadist might be, he has kept me alive long past my expiration date.”

He feels some of the tension leave his shoulders and lets his hand fall from the mask as she closes her eyes and takes a few deep breathes. He has not failed her.

But he cannot save her, either.

At the sound of crinkling paper her gaze slides down to the photograph in his hand. Following her gaze he opens his clenched fist and looks at the swirls of green. Seeing her push herself up in her bed he is quick to smooth out the photograph and sit behind her on the bed, not commenting when her form leans against his for support.

Her fingers shakily trace the green swirls before dropping into her lap. He can almost feel the strength seeping out of her.

How has he never noticed how sick she is?

“I wish I could go outside. Just once.”

As her eyes close and her body goes limp against his side, he can feel a decision he feels he might later come to regret licking its way to the forefront of his mind.

Obsidian slowly bleeds into red and the tomoe slowly start to spin. He gently settles her back down onto her bed and takes the photograph out her hand. He crosses the room to place this photograph with the others in her hiding space underneath one of the beeping monitors that he now finds himself loathing.

As he closes the door softly behind him, the decision finally makes its way to the forefront of his thoughts.

One day she will see the outside world. He will make sure of it.

—

At the sounds of explosions she grabs her collection of photographs and secures them under her shirt.

The Sadist came by yesterday, ostensibly to check on her health. When he caught her furrowed brows as she watched him prep some of the jars and charts lining the shelves in her room for transport, he was strangely kind enough to warn her that they might have to evacuate the base today. The explosions probably mean that evacuation protocols are about to be put into effect.

She winces as the screams of the poor souls being burned alive confirms her guess. She once heard her father tell the medic that in the event they needed to evacuate and move to another base all of the unpromising experiments needed to be eliminated so that his enemies could not see the results of his research.

She covers her ears in a vain attempt to block out the noise and wishes someone had thought to end the poor people’s lives before burning the evidence of the experiments that had been conducted on them.

But then again, he is the Sadist.

It is only a matter of seconds between when the screams stop and he appears in her room. He quickly grabs the sealed jars he prepared the day before and then flings her over his back without warning. Corridors seem to fly past as he speeds through them. She closes her eyes, unused to such speeds.

And then for a wonderful, brief moment she feels the heat of the sun.

Before she can open her eyes she feels the tingle of medical chakra against her forehead. She tries to fight it with her own, but her body is still weak after her last bout of illness and does not want to part with the life force.

That is why she angrily grinds out the word she does when she wakes up to the feel of another metal table underneath her and the beeping noises of machines in the corner.

“Traitor.”

She feels something jerk against her left leg before sliding off the bed. She quickly opens her eyes in time to see a head of black hair making its way to the door.

“Oh, thank God you’re okay.”

He pauses.

“I was worried when I heard the explosions, and then I didn’t see you before I was knocked out. You weren’t caught in a fight, were you?”

She hears his exasperated sigh as he turns his body towards her, one eye glaring at her from the shadows.

“Hn.”

She glances down and sees a photograph held delicately at the corners between his fingertips.

“Is that a new one for me?”

He glances down at the photograph for a minute, seemingly frozen in place by its contents. Eventually he slowly makes his way back over to her, so she sits up to give him more space on the only seating option in her new room.

The picture is taken from the edge of a wooden dock in a cerulean blue lake. Trees surround the lake, hiding any signs of civilization. Large, puffy clouds are reflected imperfectly in the rippled surface of the water.

Before she can stop herself she blurts out, “Is this lake at the bottom of a waterfall?”

She feels him jolt beside her and looks up quickly enough to see the remnants of surprise before the usual disdain slips back across his features.

“No.”

She frowns and continues to observe him. He was being more anti-social than usual.

But is he? He had been sitting in her room, staring at this picture while waiting for her to wake up. What was it that had made him want to leave?

Oh.

“Is this a picture of your home?”

Sometimes silence speaks volumes.

“When I was a kid I used to pretend that Konoha was my home. Which wasn’t entirely false; I was born in Konoha, I just didn’t live there long enough to remember any of it.” She feels his gaze shift towards her and continues on. “Even though I don’t remember it as well as you do, I still miss it. I miss the freedom I associate with it, the light.”

She turns and looks him in the eyes.

“I cannot pretend to understand why you left, but I can understand losing a piece of yourself or leaving it behind.”

She takes his hand. He does not let go.

—

He feels her quiet breaths on the back of his neck and wonders if maybe this is not such a good idea as he carries her towards one of the secret exits.

But this might be his last chance.

He heads to the spot he found a month ago as quickly as he can. He knows he has a few hours as Kabuto and Orochimaru finish preparing for tomorrow’s ceremony, and they still believe that he is unaware of the timeline for their plans. If anything, his absence from the base should be some form of relief for them.

They reach the spot and he gently sets her down on the ground before gently shaking her awake.

“What?” she mutters in confusion as her mind works sluggishly to remember where she is.

“I have a surprise for you.”

He watches as she slowly blinks her eyes open and rolls onto her side. She looks in confusion at the trees surrounding her until something clicks and her mouth opens in surprise. She turns around to say something to him, but her eyes widen in join as she finally sees what is behind him.

“Is that…?”

“Yes.”

She crawls forward and dips her hand into the cold water, marveling at the ripples her hand makes before pulling it back up and looking at the natural formation she has been dreaming about for years.

“Do you want to go closer?”

She nods her head yes, so he gets in front of her and allows her to climb up onto his back. Her breath hitches when he places first one foot and then another on the water’s surface. He waits until she releases it before walking further out into the small lake at the bottom of the waterfall.

She giggles as he walks them through the cool spray until they are close enough to touch the cascading water. She reaches her hand out to do just that and gasps as the force pushes her arm sharply downward.

“It’s beautiful.”

He steps backwards and starts the short walk back to the shore. He sets her down on a rock by the lakeside. She dips her feet in the water as he settles down next to her.

“You were wrong.” He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, struggling to recall what she might be talking about. “It might not be a gentle melody, but moving water makes its own music.”

He grunts and lies down on the grass, staring at the stars above him. They remain that way, him staring at the stars and her kicking her feet in the cool water, as the sound of the waterfall fills the clearing. Soon the sounds of waking animals also fill the air and he gets to his feet.

“Do we have to leave already?”

“I have to take care of a few things back at the base. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

He is not sure what emotions he sees in her eyes, but the small smile that graces her lips is reassuring.

“I’ll wait for you here then.”

When he approaches the clearing a few hours later, he turns to the shinobi following him and orders for them to wait. He has a decision to make, one that he needs to make by himself.

Can he afford to bring her with him? The redhead’s ability might be able to save her life, but she has not been trained in the shinobi arts.

He figures he will know his answer when he sees her again.

At first, he thinks she is just sleeping, the warmth of the sun having lulled her to sleep after she stayed up all night, but then he realizes he cannot hear her raspy breaths. He approaches slowly, not certain he wants to see the sight he knows will be before him.

As he stares at the slight upwards twitch of her lips, he realizes he is glad that he did not have to choose, that some higher power decided to make the choice for him.

Then he realizes something else and sheathes his sword before turning around, leaving all of their stolen moments behind him.

He did not know her name.


End file.
